Breaking the Light
by Soledad
Summary: No one has been evil from the beginning. Not even Sauron. Or Saruman. What might have been the point where their fall began? WIP. Warning: Valarin names. For absolute geeks only. :)


BREAKING THE LIGHT

**by Soledad**

**Disclaimer:** The characters, the context and the main plot belong to Professor Tolkien, whom I greatly admire. I'm only trying to fill in the gaps he so graciously left for us, fanfic writers, to have some fun.

**Rating:** G

**Dedication:** for Tyellas with love. Happy birthday!

**Author's notes:**

This is but a prologue to a rather lengthy Saruman story I intend to write when I am done with at least some of my ongoing projects. Posted as a birthday fic, since Tyellas wanted a villainous character at his/her worst. Well, I'm not sure about _that_ part, but I gave her _two_ characters in their pre-villain stage. g As Gandalf said, nobody was evil from the beginning. But there had to be a beginning to that. This beginning is what I am trying to show here.

There will be some peculiar footnotes, because I decided to use the Valarin version of the names of the Valar (in case Ardalambion had one ready). It was an attempt to create atmosphere, as this story happens before the coming of Elves, and it is more likely that two Maiar would use the tongue of their own kin. Sorry if it makes reading more difficult. They will vanish as soon as the Elves arrive.

This story is based on the Annals of Aman as published in "Morgoth's Ring" (HoME 10).

My sincerest thanks to Erunyauve and Finch for suggesting the Valarin names for Saruman, Urwendi, Uinen and the two Lamps and for answering my ridiculous questions about Valarin. I could never have written this story without their help.

Special thanks go to Finch for beta-reading. All remaining mistakes are mine.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"White! It serves as a beginning. White cloth may be dyed. The white page can be overwritten; and the white light can be broken." (Saruman)

_"In which case it is no longer white. And he that breaks a thing to find out what it is has left the path of wisdom."(Gandalf)_

_(The Fellowship of the Ring, p. 339)_

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

CHAPTER 1: THE SEED OF EVIL 

"After ages of labour beyond knowledge or reckoning in the great halls of Eä the Valar descended into Athâraphelûn(1) in the beginning of its being, and they began there their labour fore-ordained for the shaping of its lands and its waters, even from the foundations to the highest towers of Air.

But their labours were frustrated and turned aside from their design, for Dušamanudhaz(2) coveted the dominion of Athâraphelûn, and he claimed the kingship and was at strife with Mânawenûz(3), the Blessed One, the one closest in accord with Eru. And Dušamanûdhaz wrought great ruin with fire and deadly cold and marred all that the other Valar made.

In the 1500th Valarin Year it came to pass – that hearing afar of the war in Athâraphelûn – Tulukhaštâz(4) the Strong came thither out of distant regions of Eä to the aid of Mânawenûz. Then Athâraphelûn was filled with the sound of his laughter, but he turned a face of anger towards Dušamanûdhaz, and the Marred One fled before his wrath and his mirth, and forsook Athâraphelûn, and there was long peace."

(Paraphrased after The Annals of Aman, § 11-12)

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

During that long peace happened that the Valar began their labours anew. Firstly they ordered the lands and the waters again, and even though some of them feared that Athâraphelun could never quite reach the same perfect harmony they had envisioned at the very beginning, great work had been done by Arômêz(5) and Pathânezel(6) and their household. And when all the lands and waters were ordered properly, Pathânezel went to Mânawenûz and spoke to him, saying:

"O Blessed One, we have need of light, that the seeds of my devising might grow and have life!"

And Mânawenûz consulted the voice of Ilúvatar that had been murmuring in his heart wordlessly ever since the First Music was played; then he spoke to his wife, the Lady of the light, and they called to Achûlêz(7) and asked for his help. Therefore Achûlêz summoned all the craftsmen of his household to the great smithy near the Void where they had worked of old, in order not to disturb the others, and asked them to make suggestions.

Great artisans these were, from the kin of the lesser Ayanumûz(8), also called the Beautiful, and with great eagerness they began to give him ideas. There was a heated discussion, for each of them argued in defence of his or her own vision passionately, 'til at last Rušuranaškad(9) raised his hand, and at that all became quiet to hear what he had to say. For not only was he the most beautiful of them, his _fana_ – that of a tall, muscular, fiery-haired male with bottomless dark eyes – mirroring the fire of his spirit, but also the most skilled, and his visions and dreams exceeded those of his kin.

"What we need are lamps," he said in his deep, melodious voice. "Two great lamps, wrought of silver and gold, and yet translucent, so that the Lady of the Light can fill them with hallowed fire, to give light to the Earth."

All that heard this were in awe, even Achûlêz himself, and it was decided quickly that this was what they would do. Only the heart of Phanaišata(10) was filled with jealousy, for it irked him to no end that it had not been he who came up with this magnificent idea, and he understood that he would never be more than second best among Achûlêz' people. For there was no fire that could burn hotter than the spirit of Rušuranaškad, and even in the clutches of his jealousy, Phanaišata could not help but admire him.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

And thus the great work had begun, and it lasted long. For even with their skills, it was not easy to bend the brittle metal to their will – to make it mould obediently according to their wishes, yet keep it impenetrable and strong, so that it would be able to keep the hallowed fire of the Lady inside. Often would they suffer throwbacks, for this was a work unlike anything they had done before – and at those times Rušuranaškad would leave and vanish for a while, telling no-one where he was going. And when he returned, his beautiful face was clouded and grim, and he worked furiously on his next attempt to overcome the stubborn resistance of the metal, and no-one dared to speak to him when he was in this dark mood.

After several of these incidents Phanaišata began to watch his brother(11), and when Rušuranaškad stomped away in fury next time, he followed him off to the dark places, near the Void of Eä where he sought solitude and tried to calm down his wrath. Yet all too soon he vanished from Phanaišata's sight, as if swallowed by the shadows, and there was no way to know how and when he returned. He simply appeared again, seemingly out of nowhere, and his dark eyes were hard and fiery like the embers of a dying fire.

"Are you stalking me, brother?" he asked, and his voice was now hard and dark like wrought iron.

"I was worried about you," Phanaišata replied. "You seem… not yourself lately."

"There is a great work I have to accomplish," Rušuranaškad said, his voice still harsh. "How am I supposed to do so when my own brother would not allow me to set my mind at ease undisturbed?"

Phanaišata shook his head in concern. "You have been in the Void, brother – where the Marred One is said to hide, with all the spirits that he corrupted to his service. I saw you vanish into the shadows."

But his brother only laughed at his words as if he were but a newly born thought of Ilúvatar who had no knowledge of what Eä was like .

"There is naught and no-one in the Void, brother," he answered, his voice full of longing, "only glorious emptiness, waiting to be filled with ideas, visions and fire. 'Tis the greatest source of inspiration an artisan could wish for. No masters. No restrictions. No rules. Only freedom and endless depths."

The tone in which these words were spoken made Phanaišata shiver.

"You are beginning to frighten me, brother," he said. Rušuranaškad gave him a thin smile.

"Good," was all he answered before returning to Achûlêz' smithy.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

They never spoke of it again. Their labours continued, and Rušuranaškad kept vanishing into the Void every time when they suffered a throwback. Phanaišata did not follow him again, but often he wished he could. That, which his brother told him about those dark places was frightening and alluring at the same time, and slowly but steadily the yearning to experience that vast emptiness, that unrestricted freedom, began to grow in his heart.

He had the vague feeling that what his brother was doing was wrong and should not be allowed, yet he could not bring himself to tell their master about it. Besides, every time Rušuranaškad returned from the Void, he seemed even more dedicated to their great work, and they needed all his skills when they wanted to finish it.

Then it came to pass that after almost four hundred years of hard labour the Lamps finally were made. Ulubaphanai(12) and Tulukhadâhan(13) they were named, and they were set upon mighty pillars as mountains in the midst of Athâraphelûn, to the northward and the southward.

Now that they had the light they needed for their work, the Ayanumûz continued their labours until all the kingdom of Athâraphelûn was ordered and made ready. There was a great growth of trees and herbs, for Pathânezel and Ibrînidhil(14) rested not until they lured them all out of their seeds and into the Light, and beasts and birds came forth and dwelt in the plains and in the waters, following the summons of Arômêz and Ullubôz(15), and the mountains were green and fair to look upon.

And the Ayanumûz made their dwelling upon a green isle in the midst of a lake; and that lake was between the two Lamps in the midmost  of Athâraphelun; and there, in the Isle Phelûn Amanaišal(16), because of the blending of the lights, all things were richest in growth and fairest of hue. But the Ayanumûz were seldom there gathered in company, for ever they would fare abroad in Athâraphelun, each on his own errand.

(Paraphrased after the Annals of Aman, § 15)

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It came as a surprise for Phanaišata that Rušuranaškad moved not to the Isle Amanaišal with their master's household but chose to remain in the old, abandoned smithy of Achûlêz and only kept in touch with his kin when his work demanded it. And so Phanaišata, driven as much by envy and curiosity as he was by the concern of his heart, sought out his brother to speak to him – for the first time ever since he had followed him to the rim of the Void.

Oh, they _had_ spoken to each other during all that time – about work and plans and methods and ideas, just like they spoke to the others. But never about what Phanaišata would want to know. Never had he dared to ask if Rušuranaškad still sought out the vast emptiness of the Void, now that their great and demanding work was done.

When he finally could take a good, hard look at his brother, Phanaišata needed not even to ask any more. For Rušuranaškad had changed, and he only noticed it now, since they saw each other less frequently.

Certainly, he was still beautiful, mayhap even more so than before, for the great works that he had created made the fire of his spirit burn stronger than ever. And yet there seemed to be a darkness in his fire, a shadow that had not been there before – a shadow, the first touch of which Phanaišata now remembered to have seen long ago, on that faithful day when their close bond was broken?

Restless he seemed, now that his great work was done, as if his own fire would be eating him up from the inside. And once again, concern gained the upper hand in Phanaišata's heart, for even though they had grown apart for quite some time, he still could not help but love and admire his brother.

"What ails you, Urušaštâz(17)?" he asked gently, calling his brother by that tender name he had given him long ago and that had not been said ever since  they began their work on the Lamps. "Are you not glad that our work is done? Would you leave this barren place, you could see the things of great beauty and strength that you have created and your heart would be filled with joy. Why are you hiding here?"

But Rušuranaškad only shook his head and sighed.

"I have no love for a work that is done already," he said. "Our hard labours gave me great joy, but now that they are finished and the Mâchanumâz(18) content and idle, what is left for me to do?"

"You need to rest, brother, like all the others," Phanaišata reminded him. "Even the Greatest Ones need time to recover, and we cannot measure ourselves with them, so far above our kin is theirs."

"Above _you_, mayhap," Rušuranaškad coldly replied, and once again his eyes were dark and distant and his voice was harsh. "Go, run back to your master, you faithful little mûl(19). _You_ were not the one whose skills he needed to finish the Lamps. It was I and not he to whom the vision of their shape was given… and yet 'tis he who shall be praised and admired for the creation of them. Go and lick his feet if you want. I shall not lower myself thusly."

Envy was something Phanaišata understood all too well, yet it surprised him greatly that his brother would feel the same towards their master. Not that he would believe that Rušuranaškad could ever exceed Achûlêz in skills – that was simply not possible, by the very design of Eä, but he understood also that his brother gave in to the dangerous delusion that one day he could outgrow their master. Mayhap the repeated visits to the Void had warped his mind and made him believe in impossible things.

In which case he needed help, even if he would never admit it.

"Would you not come with me to fair Phelûn Amanaišal though?" he asked tentatively. "They say there shall be a great feast to celebrate all the hard labour that has been done. Urušigas(20) asked if you would attend."

_That_ finally got Rušuranaškad's attention, for he was not the only one to pursue the bright and fiery maiden of Light. Phanaišata, too, went to great lengths to win her liking, and so did Finnôwenûz(21), the highest  in the Blessed One's grace, yet Urušigas had not made her choice, nor seemed she interested in doing so. And yet she had asked after him…

"What did you say to her?" he asked Phanaišata. His white-haired brother shrugged. In truth, he had given no answer, but it would help things little to admit _that_ right now.

"I told her I shall try to bring you back with me for the feast," he answered carefully. Which was the truth – in a sense. He _had_ made that promise, but not to Urušigas – to Achûlêz himself. Still the half-lie seemed to serve its purpose, for Rušuranaškad hesitated for a moment.

"I feel not like celebrating," he murmured, "for all my work is finished and therefore lost to me – now it belongs to others. Yet I would like to see the fire in Urušigas' eyes again…"

"Then come with me," Phanaišata urged. "Even if we walk to the lake, we can arrive in time. You truly ought to be among your kin once more."

"For a short time," Rušuranaškad replied softly, and off they set to Phelun Amanaišal.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A wondrous sight it was that greeted them, for it came to pass that at last the Ayanumûz were content, and they were minded to rest a while from labour and watch the growth and unfolding of the things that they had devised and begun. Therefore Mânawenûz ordained a great feast, and summoned all the Ayanumûz and their Ladies to Phelun Amanaišal, together with all their folk. And they came at his bidding; but Achûlêz, it was said, and Tulukhaštâz(22) were weary; for the craft of Achûlêz and the strength of Tulukhaštâz had been at the service of all without ceasing in the days of their labour.

(Paraphrased after the Annals of Aman, §16).

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Urušigas was there, though, and in the absence of Achûlêz Rušuranaškad was asked to represent the household of the Smith, and for once Phanaišata felt naught but joy about this, for the shadow seemed to leave the face of his brother for a while. And they all were merry and content and danced upon the great clearing where the blue light of Ulubaphanai mingled with the golden light of Tulukhadâhan, and every thing was shimmering in a wondrously soft green, so that their hearts were filled with joy and new strength.

'Tis not recorded how long the great feast lasted, nor had the songs of that time of pure joy ever been sung again, for all too soon did the Ayanumûz taste bitterness and loss again, and the clear tones of their music became darkened with sorrow. For Dušamanûdhaz knew of all that was done; for even then he had secret friends and spies among the Beautiful whom he had converted to his cause. And of these the chief, as Phanaišata after learned with horror, was Rušuranaškad himself, the greatest craftsman of the household of Achûlêz.

For every time when he thought himself alone in the Void, seeking inspiration, he opened his very spirit to the wordless whispers that inhabited, indeed, the vast emptiness he had come to love so much. And what he thought to be the Voice of the One speaking to his heart, was, in truth, the seductive murmur of Dušamanûdhaz, reading his thoughts and his feelings, and he revealed deep secrets to the Darkness, not knowing that the Darkness had a face and a name.

A face that had been marred by the Discord and a name that was not spoken any more.

And afar off in the dark places Dušamanûdhaz was filled with hatred, being jealous of the work of his peers, whom he desired to make subject to himself. Therefore he gathered to himself spirits out of the voids of Eä that he had perverted to his service, and he deemed himself strong – yet not strong enough still. There was something – nay, some_one_ – he still needed in order to accomplish his goals.

Yet he knew that – despite all his seduction – he could not bend the fiery one to his will, as long as Rušur, as he called him in thought, was not broken. He also knew he needed to move fast, while the Ayanumûz were unaware of his plans and not prepared for an attack. And seeing now his time he drew near again unto Athâraphelûn; and looked down upon it, and the beauty of the Earth in its Spring filled him the more with hate.

(Paraphrased after the Annals of Aman, §17)

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

After the feast Rušuranaškad returned to the abandoned smithy of his master again, no matter how much Phanaišata begged him to stay. For he saw that the strange mood of his brother was returning, and he almost feared the burning fire in those dark, dark eyes. He hoped that if Rušuranaškad remained in the light, the shadow might be lifted from his heart and they could become close again… for Phanaišata had no other friends, sharing to quite some extent his brother's solitary and jealous nature.

But the Void was calling to Rušuranaškad with a wordless song of dark, terrible beauty, and the fiery smith could not resist its lure. He yearned for the vastness of that empty space, for the limitless freedom it offered, for its shapeless darkness that seemed to beg him to pour it into form, to shape it into something great and powerful and terrible – he did not truly know what it might have been. He only knew with a certainty beyond all wisdom that a great destiny awaited him out there, and he was not willing to let that slip through his fingers.

Thus he ignored the agitated pleas of his brother and followed that dark song, and very rarely did he return to his own kin, though he still worked in Achûlêz' smithy, for thus was his nature that he could not exist without exercising his art.

Phanaišata kept visiting him, and with every visit, the unrest in his heart grew, for the increasingly infrequent visits made the subtle changes in Rušuranaškad's spirit more noticeable. So worried had Phanaišata become, indeed, that he finally turned to Achûlêz and opened his heart to the Smith, begging for his help.

Yet Achûlêz only shook his head in sorrow and said that he could not interfere – none of the Mâchanumâz could, not even Mânawenûz himself, for the Beautiful had to find their own tone in the unfolding of the Great Music, even if they ended up as a tone of the Discord. He, too, was worried about Rušuranaškad, whom he loved greatly as a son of his own – a status that Phanaišata often envied his brother for – yet he could not force him to open his eyes and see the perils of his way.

So it came to be that Rušuranaškad kept his distance, and since Achûlêz needed someone as his lead smith, he finally named Phanaišata as his chief aide. And Phanaišata was proud and content for a long time, even though he missed his brother and knew that were Rušuranaškad available, he would never have been chosen. His visits became few and far between after that, for now that the Ayanumûz had rested, they became laborious again, and the demands to Achûlêz' craftsmen were great.

Also, he feared the closeness of the Void, for even though he kept his visits short, he, too, could feel the wordless call of that endless, dark vastness and was afraid that one day he would not be able to resist entering it.

And then, he knew, he would never return.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

'Tis said that nearly two thousand years had been spent in undisturbed peace, 'til the Ayanumûz gathered upon Phelun Amanaišal once again and feasted and made merry, fearing no evil, and because of the light of Ulubaphanai they did not perceive the shadow in the North that was cast from afar by Dušamanûdhaz; for he was grown dark as the Night of the Void.

At this particular time even Rušuranaškad returned from his barren dwellings to the green isle in the midst of the lake, for he had caught word that in that feast Tulukhaštâz would espouse Neššai(23), the sister of Arômêz, and Pathânezel(24) robed her in flowers, and she danced before the Ayanumûz upon the green grass of Phelun Amanaišal, and her beauty and the loveliness of that dance filled all hearts with awe and joy.

(Paraphrased after the Annals of Aman, §18)

And after her came Urušigas, as it was her wont on all the great feasts, followed by her maidens who helped her taking care for Tulukhadâhan, the golden-gleaming Southern Lamp. And casting aside their raiment of incarnate bodies, they dove deep inside the Lamp, letting the golden foams of its light soak their true forms. And it seemed as if their bodies had grown lucent, for they shone with an ardour within, and light flashed from their limbs as they moved, slowly first, in a perfect circle around the Lamp, then faster and faster like living, dancing flames.

Like air they were, and they trod as lightly as did the golden gleam of Tulukhadâhan upon the green grass, and in no one burned the fire as hot and bright as in Urušigas who truly did her name every honour. And watching the bright and lovely Maiden of Light, the deepening shadow vanished from Rušuranaškad's heart like dew vanishes by the coming of the morn, and for once he seemed merry and content like the others.(25)

The heart of Phanaišata, however, was heavy with jealousy once again.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Then Tulukhaštâz slept, being weary and content, and Dušamanûdhaz deemed that his hour had come. And he passed, therefore, over the Walls of the Night upon the borders of Eä with his host, and he came to Middle-earth in the North; and the Ayanumûz were not aware of him.

(Paraphrased after the Annals of Aman, §19)

Still, a feeling of faint unease seeped into the joy of their labours and overshadowed their hearts, and Rušuranaškad grew restless again, for he remained in Phelûn Amanaišal after the feast, not able to tear himself apart from the fire that was Urušigas' spirit. Yet he spoke not to her, nor did he return to Achûlêz' halls, and he refused to work with the Smith's people. Instead he dwelt near Tulukhadâhan for quite a while, where he could watch Urušigas and her maidens secretly.

His stalking remained not undetected by Urušigas for long, yet she seemed not to mind his presence; and to the mild dismay of Phanaišata they were often seen henceforth sitting at the feet of the Golden Lamp, admiring its fire in companionable silence, for Rušuranaškad, unlike his brother, was not one of many words back in those days. But after a while Rušuranaškad's restlessness grew into true impatience, and he yearned for a union with Urušigas – a union like between Ošošai and Uluphelûz (26).

Urušigas, however, felt not like binding herself to any of her pursuers; and even if she had, it would have been to Finnôwenuz, to whom she felt drawn the most, while she saw both Rušuranaškad and Phanaišata as dear friends. Still, foresight told her that she would have to fulfil a different, unique destiny in the great design of Eä, and therefore should not bind herself to any one, not even to Finnôwenûz, but remain free for the great things to come.

She told this to all her friends and they understood it – or, at least so it seemed. Yet shortly thereafter Rušuranaškad left the divine dwellings on Phelûn Amanaišal and returned to his old home near the Void, for it seemed to him that there was nought else to keep him among his own kin. To his utter shock, however, when he entered the Void once again, to seek solace in its soundless dark songs, he found that – for the first time ever – the Void was truly empty. No whispers, no dreams, no murmurs greeted him in the bottomless darkness – just loneliness and silence.

And Rušuranaškad left the Void again, turning his back to its faithless depths, sat down on the threshold of Achûlêz' abandoned smithy and wept.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Now Dušamanûdhaz began the delving and building of a vast fortress deep under the Earth, beneath dark mountains where the light of Ulubaphanai was dim. That stronghold was named Utumno later. And though the Ayanumûz knew nought of it as yet, nonetheless the evil of Dušamanudhaz and the blight of his hatred flowed out thence, and the Spring of Athâraphelûn was marred, and living things became sick and rotted, or were corrupted to monstrous forms.

(Paraphrased after the Annals of Aman, §20)

It was Rušuranaškad, indeed, who noticed first that things were not as they should be, since he dwelt outside of Phelûn Amanaišal and the closest to the dark places. For a while he believed it was his own dark mood that let him see every thing darkening around him, for he had little love for the designs of Arômêz and Pathânezel, yet when more and more things kept turning dark and tortured and hideous, he became worried, and once again he returned to his kin to seek out the counsel of his brother, knowing that Phanaišata – ever-curious as  was his nature – would know better what to do.

Phanaišata saw his own worries mirrored in his brother's questions, and for a while he set his jealousy and wounded pride aside (for he could still not forgive all the harsh words Rušuranaškad had spoken to him during the work on the Lamps and afterwards), and the two of them went to Mânawenûz himself and told him about their fears and observations. Then Mânawenûz sent out the spirits in his service to look into the events happening in the far North, and they came back with news about the upturning of the Earth under the Mountains and the groan of the tortured hills. They had also detected their fallen kin gathering around the dark mountains of the North and spoke about black smoke rising from the depths.

"It felt as if a terrible evil would be gathering all its strength in the far North," one of them reported. "The sounds of Discord are growing stronger, and the heat of the Dark Flame nearly consumed us."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Then the Ayanumûz knew indeed that Dušamanûdhaz was at work again, and they sought for his hiding place. But Dušamanûdhaz, trusting in the strength of Utumno and the might of his servants, came forth suddenly to war, and struck the first blow, ere the Ayanumûz were prepared. And he assailed the lights of Ulubaphanai and Tulukhadâhan, and he cast down their pillars, and broke their Lamps. Then in the overthrow of the mighty pillars lands were broke and seas arose in tumult; and when the Lamps were spilled destroying flame was poured out over the Earth. And the shape of Athâraphelun and the symmetry of its waters and its lands were marred in that time, so that the first designs of the Ayanumûz were never after restored.

(Paraphrased after the Annals of Aman, §21)

Rušuranaškad was returning from the home of Mânawenûz when darkness descended upon Phelûn Amanaišal like a living cloud. For alive that cloud was indeed – a monstrous shape Dušamanûdhaz took on for his disastrous purpose – and filled with voices that seemed to have a hauntingly familiar echo in his heart: dark murmurs of emptiness and fire. Only in this very moment came Rušuranaškad to understand his own folly and how he had been betrayed by the Void, and with a great cry of rage he grabbed his heavy hammer that he ever carried with him, ready to shatter his betrayer to pieces.

But the dark cloud changed shape in mid-flight, taking on a form similar to that of the _fana_ of the Ayanumûz but huge as the very hills, and it landed on its feet near Tulukhadâhan, towering over the Golden Lamp like a mountain of smoke. A balled fist of the size of a hill itself stroke down upon the southern pillar and threw it out off its roots – the Lamp fell to the ground and broke, its shards tearing deep wounds into the flesh of Urušigas and her maidens, and they fell and lay in the spilt fire of he Lamp like cut-down, dying flowers.

Seeing this, Rušuranaškad roared in rage and threw his hammer with all his strength, aiming the dark head far, far above him, yet Dušamanûdhaz flicked it out of his way as if it were a tiny wooden stick and reached down. His great hand ploughed through Rušuranaškad's chest as if it had no substance at all and closed around his very core in a vice-like grip. Rušuranaškad choked, fear and agony darkening his spirit, and for a while he drifted out of his existence entirely.

When he came to, Dušamanûdhaz was gone, the Blue Lamp broken as well, and the Ayanumûz had already begun the hard labour of looking after the damage the Marred One had wrought and trying to heal the wounds that had been torn into the flesh of the Earth. Rušuranaškad accepted his brother's help, and while Tulukhaštâz and his followers were chasing the Dark One, he slowly recovered from his deep shock.

But his eyes were now dark and empty, and when Phanaišata reached out to touch his spirit, he could feel that the fire in Rušuranaškad's core had turned cold.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

In the confusion and the darkness Dušamanûdhaz escaped, though fear fell upon him: for above the roaring of the seas he heard the voice of Mânawenûz as a mighty wind, and the Earth trembled beneath the feet of Tulukhaštâz. But he came to Utumno ere Tulukhaštâz could overtake him; and there he lay hid. And the Ayanumûz could not at that time overcome him, for the greater part of their strength was needed to restrain the tumults of the Earth, and to save from ruin all that could be saved of their labour; and afterward they feared to rend the Earth again, until they knew where the Children of Ilúvatar were dwelling, who were yet to come in a time that was hidden from the Ayanumûz.

(Paraphrased after the Annals of Aman, §22)

TBC – in a much, _much_ later time.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

**End notes:**

(1) "appointed dwelling" = Arda (Valarin)

(2) A name for Melkor in Valarin. Supposed meaning: "the Marred One".

(3) Manwë (Valarin name)

(4) "the golden-haired" = Tulkas (Valarin name)

(5) The Vala Oromë (Valarin).

(6) Tentative attempt to give Yavanna a Valarin name. Supposed meaning: "Leaf-green".

(7) Aulë (Valarin. According to the Ardalambion the "ch" in this particular name corresponds to the German ach-Laut and was by Tolkien spelt by a special letter similar to the number 3. I decided against using it, simply because it would look a little too weird, even to my taste. g

(8) Ainur in Valarin (Not sure that the plural is correctly given, though). I use this expression for the Valar as well, for the lack of any better suited word.

(9) Supposed meaning: "Ring of Fire" – yes, it is Sauron, though I have serious doubts that the name was created correctly. I am no linguist at all, so please bear with me.

(10) Supposed meaning: "White Hair" – yeah, Saruman, indeed. (well, "bright hair", to be correct.)

(11) Not to be taken seriously. It only means that they were kindred spirits as Maiar go, both belonging to Aulë's people.

(12) Uluban = "blue" and phanai = bright, so it would mean Blue Gleam. Since Illuin, the original Elvish name of the Northern Lamp contains the stem "Luin" = blue, we can assume that the Northern Lamp had a blue light. Just like the Fëanorian lamps, a lot later.

(13) Tulukhan = yellow (or golden, see Tulkas' name) and dâhan = high, so basically the Southern Lamp would be called "The High Golden [Gleam].

(14) Silver-flower in Valarin – an original name I chose for Melian. Not a genuine Tolkien invention.

(15) Ulmo (Valarin).

(16) Literal meaning: "dwelling unmarred".

(17) Supposed meaning: "Fire-haired".

(18) The Aratari, the lead Valar (Valarin). Literal meaning: "the Authorities".

(19) Slave. Origin uncertain. As I picked it up in a fanfic, probably not even a genuine word.

(20) "Valarized" version of the name Urwendi, which was the original name of Arien, the Sun-Maiden. I used the words "uruš" = fire and "igas" = heat, so it basically means "Fire-heat". It is a made-up name, of course.

(21) The feeble attempt to create a Valarin version of the name Fionwë (called Eönwë in the final scripts), the herald of Manwë.

(22) Tulkas (Valarin).

(23) Nessa. Name created following the example of Oššai or Ošošai for Ossë.

(24) In the original it's Vana who does this, but I could not find a proper Valarin name for her, so I gave her task to Yavanna.

(25) the description follows the one in the Lost Tales 1.

(26) Uinen. Ulu or Ullu = dweller, phelûn = dwelling, so Uluphelûz would supposedly mean "Water-dweller.


End file.
